On the evening before the day on which this scene took place, a man wrote in his office by the light of a shaded lamp, which made every thing but half visible. It was ten o'clock. A door opened, and an officer of one of the courts appeared. M. H...., the chief of the political police of whom we have already spoken, lifted up his head. "What is the matter? and who is now come to interrupt me?" said he, with marked ill-humor. The officer who had come in, and who was a _Huissier_, said, "'The Stranger,' and as Monsieur receives him always--" "Let him come in," said M. H...., eagerly. "You were right to announce him." The person whom we have previously seen with a mask at the house of M. H...., entered, and looked carefully around to see that he was with the Chief of Police alone. Many months had passed, and all we have described had taken place. For since then, we have gone, like a sound logician, backwards, in order to expose our _data_ distinctly before we proceed to define their consequences. Now the first appearance of the masked man in the cabinet of M. H.... coincided with the painful scene in which Taddeo Rovero had crushed the hopes of the Duchess of Palma by revealing to her the probability of the marriage of Monte-Leone and Aminta. "Monsieur," said the stranger to M. H...., "have I kept my promise?" "Yes," said H.... "Have I unfolded the plot of Carbonarism?" "You have satisfied me of the existence of the French Venta, and of their identity with those of Italy and Spain. We have written to the police of those nations, and all was discovered to be exact, so that in a few days the governments of those countries will have acted." "Have I named you the chief Carbonari in Paris?" "You have." "Have I given you their secret notes and books?" "In relation to that, I am but partially satisfied, but I do not need the copies but the documents themselves, in the handwriting of their authors." "You will have them--but there is an Italian proverb, _Chi va piano, va sano! e chi va sano, va lontano_. I told you the fruit was not yet ripe. I think, however, the time is approaching to gather it, and in a month I will--" "But," said H...., "does not this delay endanger all? May they not act, while we pause?" "Do you wish to know by your own observation who are the conspirators?" said the stranger. "I do," said H.... "Do you wish to see--to hear them?" "Yes, and to arrest them." "Not yet--it is too soon. While your fowlers entrapped a few fledgelings the rest of the covey would escape." "How can I see and hear them?" "I alone can enable you to do so, or rather not I, but the person whose agent I am." "And when?" said M. H...., impatiently. "In three days. It is, however, first necessary to repair a grave error which endangers all our hopes." "What fault?"